BooksBarbecue
Back Again, Rachel
Chapters (98)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. Acknowledgements

‘My teachers were nuns. I tried telling the girls at school, but…it’s hard to describe. It was no good because nothing could be done. Going to the guards? I’d have got the blame.

‘I was a girl of seventeen, no boyfriend. I was around the town, not hiding that I was expecting, hoping that someone would…All that happened was my father and Seamus’s father cooked up a scheme—Seamus Higgins, with the asthma and the weak heart, married the stupid slut in the family way. But it could have been worse,’ she said. ‘Seamus is decent. But sick, always sick.’

I nodded, afraid to say anything, in case I got it wrong.

‘Rachel, though!’ Trassa’s tone had lifted. ‘Now that we know what my “root cause” is, can I go back to the scratch cards?’

My heart sank. ‘Oh Trassa. I’m so sorry for what you went through. And we’ll do everything to find the specialized help you need and deserve. But you’re still an addict, nothing can change that. After what you went through, it’s understandable that you’d seek escape. But I’m sorry, Trassa.’

‘You mean, after all I’ve told you, I still have to stop?’

‘You know you have to.’

She stared at me, stared and stared. And then she bawled.

37

This probably wasn’t the best night to be meeting Luke. Even though I’d been given the tools to protect myself from my poor patients’ pain, how could you not be affected by Trassa’s ordeal?

But I’d done all I could for now—the evening nursing staff were on high alert and a consultant therapist, who specialized in sexual abuse, was with her.

When I arrived at Quin’s, he was banging around in his bathroom, his back to me. From a shelf he grabbed a bottle of Lutens 5 O’Clock and slapped on a generous handful.

‘I love that smell,’ I said.

‘Oh?’ In the mirror, his eyes met mine. ‘Should I—’ He reached for the bottle once more and I yelped, ‘That’s enough!’

Obviously I wanted Luke to be impressed with my good-looking, fragrant boyfriend but at no point could it appear that he’d made an effort.

Quin turned, then he exclaimed, ‘You look great!’

My lunch hour had been spent getting my hair blow-dried into shiny, beachy waves in the tiny hairdresser’s in the village. (It was always the luck of the draw whether you got the young, savvy gay man or the older woman in thrall to her heated rollers. Fortune had favoured me today.) Then in a speedy post-work in-and-out I’d gone home to change into a deceptively casual shirt-dress and low-cut ankle boots.

Quin inspected my knees. ‘I’m guessing your ex-husband is a leg man?’